


Life Is Just a Series of Obstacles Preventing You From Taking a Nap

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Apples, Ducks, Eden - Freeform, Five Times, Fluff, History, M/M, Napping, Snake!Crowley - Freeform, Temptations, The Sound of Music - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: Five times Crowley tried to tempt Aziraphale to a nap (and one time he succeeded).1. Eden2. The Great Flood3. Vatican City





	1. Eden

Get up and cause some trouble, they said. It’ll be an easy job, they said. Before he knew it, he would be back down in Hell with the rest of the them, the hero of the hour, the first to cause trouble with God’s precious new creation. Time flowed in a way he didn’t quite comprehend yet, but he felt like he had been there far longer than they had implied. He slithered along the ground and through the trees, trying to observe while not being observed.

The humans had been rather boring so far. All they did was walk around and take care of the animals the Almighty had given them. There was one spot in the garden they seemed to not walk in though. He had slithered around in the branches of the old apple tree, trying to get a better view. He couldn’t see anything special about the area, nothing to distinguish it from the rest of the garden. He tried watching the humans from the safety of his new favorite tree, but they never got close enough for him to really study them.

He did see plenty of the angels though. Whenever they came close to his hiding spot, he would retreat further into the foliage. It would be hard on him if some of the angels were to find him. Some of them had flaming swords. It was the swords that scared him the most. Razor sharp and flaming to boot. A little bit overkill if anyone had bothered to ask him. When the angels came by too closely, he could almost imagine them swinging those swords down on the tender junction of his neck. There was always one angel by the tree, and when the ones with the flaming swords came by, he retreated up to the highest branches where he could warily keep an eye on them. If nothing else, the apple tree was a good place to nap and avoid the superior forces of Hell while he tried to figure out exactly how he was supposed to cause trouble.

He caught a lucky break one lazy afternoon while he was wrapped around one of the thick lower branches. He heard footsteps coming closer towards the tree, and he felt a brief moment of panic. One of the angels had spotted him and was coming to chop off his head. Then he remembered the angels didn’t make noise when they walked, and he relaxed his coils around the branch. It was the female human walking curiously towards the tree like she had seen something fascinating in it. Hopefully she hadn’t seen him or he would have to come up with some trouble rather rapidly.

One of the shorter angels, one that always reminded him strongly of a gopher, stepped in her path and started talking to her. Crawly was extremely grateful that no one had given that angel a flaming sword, but the Almighty had probably deemed it too dangerous. The angel always walked around with murderous eyes, and if given a sword, probably would have chopped down half the garden by now because the trees had gotten in the way or something. A few more words were exchanged with the female human before she turned and walked the other way. Interesting. So the humans weren’t allowed near the tree. That might be a way to stir up some trouble. The angry little angel was headed back towards the tree, so Crawly retreated into the thicker foliage for some rest.

When he woke, the belligerent angel was gone and had been replaced by the one with the short curly blond hair. Unlike the other angels, this one was a great source of amusement for him. This one was worth watching, and not because Crawly was worried that he would be killed if found. Three times so far while Crawly had been watching the angel, the angel nearly caught on fire from its own flaming sword. Besides, the angel was always putting the sword down somewhere, so obviously the angel had no intention of using the sword on anything. Not exactly the most diligent of angels.

There the angel was, standing almost directly underneath him under the tree, the sword a good ten feet away on a rock so it wouldn’t catch anything on fire. Crawly flicked his tongue out. This angel radiated goodness but also a deep seeded curiosity that almost rivaled his own. He almost felt bad about what he was going to do. Almost, but this being was still one of the very same angels that rejected him.

He slithered down the tree and wrapped his long body around one of the lowest branches, hanging his head down so that he was on level with the angel.

“Hello, angel,” he hissed. Talking as a snake was ridiculously difficult, but if he came down in his true form, this angel might run away and rally the others. He might be willing to spare a moment for a talking snake though.

The angel turned suddenly. An outstretched wing smacked him in the head and sent him swinging on the branch. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the angel said, looking him over from head to tail. “Are you a talking snake?”

“Sssomething like that.” He steadied his head and flicked his tongue towards the angel. Like sunshine magnified.

“What are you doing in that tree?” the angel asked. 

“S’a nice tree to hang around in.” He looked the angel over again. Yes, this one was perfect. Didn’t seem too concerned about his sword.

“You really shouldn’t be in that particular tree,” the angel told him. Now they were getting somewhere. He knew there had to be something special about this tree.

“Why not?” he asked, lifting his head higher so he could stare directly into the angel’s eyes. If only he had the hypnotic powers a dragon.

“Because the humans aren’t supposed to eat from that tree,” the angel told him. “I don’t think it’s safe for a snake either.”

He had a bit of an idea forming. Convincing the humans to eat from the tree might stir up some trouble. All he needed to do was distract the angel on duty long enough to keep the tree unattended for a bit.

He lifted his head to look pointedly at the wall and the clear blue sky beyond. “Beautiful day,” he commented, noting with glee that the angel looked in the same direction. All the days had been beautiful so far, but this one seemed exceptionally clear. The sun was warm overhead, and there was a nice gentle breeze that just barely ruffled the angel’s feathers.

“Do you know what you ssshould do on sssuch a beautiful day?” he whispered in the angel’s ear. “Go on top of the wall, ssstretch out on the ssstone, clossse your eyesss.” He could feel it himself, the hot stone under his belly, the warm rays of the sun soaking into his scales. He practically hummed with pleasure as he painted the image for himself. He could go up there with the angel for a bit, stretch out next to those wings.

“You could put your ssword down up there without worrying about whether you’re going to burn down the garden.” He could tell the angel was thinking about it, the way those eyes grew distant. He wondered briefly if he was with the angel in those fantasies. “Jussst ssstretch out on your back, bathe in the sssunssshine, closse your eyesss, and drift off to sssssleep.”

The angel looked at him then looked at him again. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he asked as the perfect mental image was broken. He didn’t know why he thought the angel would be more complying. “It’sss a beautiful day.”

“I’m an angel.” The angel sounded almost scandalized that Crawly had suggested otherwise. “I can’t just go take a nap.”

“Jussst a little one?” He didn’t want to have to come up with a new plan. This one had seemed so perfect, and now he just wanted to stretch out and sleep.

“No,” the angel said with an air of finality. What a disappointment. “And you really shouldn’t be in that tree.”

“You don’t know what you’re misssssing,” he teased before he pulled himself back into the tree. There was always the next time.


	2. The Great Flood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gazed at him warily from across the flames as if trying to ascertain his sincerity, but after a brief moment inched closer to the fire, angling his wings towards the heat. Crowley’s back itched as his own wings longed to be free, but he kept them safely tucked away out of reality. Aziraphale had magnificent wings even when they were damp. It was like a siren call back to his original identity as Crowley’s shoulder twitched as he struggled to keep them under control. Aziraphale might not appreciate being reminded of the fact that he was currently sharing shelter with a demon.

The rain had been torrential for over a week now. Water pouring from the sky for no good reason. Crowley had disliked rain from the start. Water just streaming down from the sky. It had taken him some time to get over his trepidation that it was Holy Water and should be avoided even though Aziraphale had tried to assure him that it was perfectly harmless. It was unsanitary at best; who knew where the Almighty was getting all that water from.

 

He stood at the entrance to his formerly safe cave and surveyed the surrounding country. He could no longer see the bottom of the nearby valley for all the water. Unfortunately, the sanctity of his cave had been destroyed about three hours ago when a very drenched Aziraphale had wandered inside seeking refuge. He couldn’t exactly turn him away without raising suspicion, so he had said nothing when Aziraphale edged past him to get further into the cave.

 

How long was this rain supposed to last anyway? If this kept up for much longer, the Almighty would succeed in wiping out more than just the locals. Lightning streaked across the sky and Crowley reflexively took a step backwards into the cave. The rain wasn’t letting up anyway, so they were going to be stuck there for a least a little longer.

 

He retreated further into the cave until he reached where Aziraphale had settled in. Aziraphale had found a rock to sit on and had released his wings. They were spread wide behind him, the feathers slick with water as they dripped onto the stone floor. His curls were damp and plastered his forehead and he looked absolutely wretched. Perhaps the Almighty knew what happened to the flaming sword after all.

 

Crowley discretely started a small fire a few feet away from the angel and Aziraphale twitched back. “It’ll help you dry off faster,” Crowley told him as he inched closer. He found a rock to perch on himself across the fire from Aziraphale. “Just don’t get too close.”

 

Aziraphale gazed at him warily from across the flames as if trying to ascertain his sincerity, but after a brief moment inched closer to the fire, angling his wings towards the heat. Crowley’s back itched as his own wings longed to be free, but he kept them safely tucked away out of reality. Aziraphale had magnificent wings even when they were damp. It was like a siren call back to his original identity as Crowley’s shoulder twitched as he struggled to keep them under control. Aziraphale might not appreciate being reminded of the fact that he was currently sharing shelter with a demon.

 

Why had Aziraphale come there in the first place? Was it purely a coincidence that he had ended up in the same cave as Crowley? Because at the moment this high ground seemed relatively safe? Or was he sent there by someone to ferret out Crowley’s activities?

 

“Isn’t this fire a little hot?” Aziraphale asked as he gently shook his wings. Crowley watched transfixed as a single, solitary feather drifted to the ground. They were so bright, even within the gloom of the cave. Aziraphale might not even notice his wings in the darkness.

 

“It’s Hellfire. It’s supposed to be hot.”

 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Aziraphale huffed, and his wings snapped out of existence.

 

Crowley shook his head; he couldn’t let Aziraphale distract him from his self-appointed plan. “I did warn you not to get too close.” Besides, he couldn’t exactly let Aziraphale go wandering around the cave. “Why are you still in the area anyway? Thought you would have gone to China. Or Australia. Or somewhere drier?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

“Thought it might seem a bit suspicious if I hightailed it out of the country. Demons aren’t supposed to be privy to Divine Plans.” Besides, he had personal business to attend to that Aziraphale did not need to be privy to. Personal business that was further into the cave and would hopefully stay quiet until he could send the angel on his way.

 

“Right,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley continued to stare at him. He deserved an explanation as well as to why Aziraphale had not heeded divine advice and vacated the area. “I couldn’t leave. Something didn’t feel right.”

 

“Like the Almighty drowning a whole bunch of people on a whim?”

 

“Well, that,” Aziraphale admitted before looking back over his shoulder as if looking for one of the other angels spying on them. “But I can’t help shake the feeling that something isn’t quite going to plan.”

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Crowley said, trying very hard not to think of his secret hiding further back in the cave. “You’re probably just tired, all the stress from the flood and everything. Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

 

“We’re in the middle of a flood,” Aziraphale said, sounding quite scandalized. “How could I possibly sleep now?”

 

“I’ll wake you before the rain drowns you.”

 

“And I’m just supposed to trust you?”

 

“Why not? If I wanted to drown you, I could have just left you out in the rain.”

 

Aziraphale’s shoulders relaxed and for just one singular moment, he thought perhaps for once he had actually succeeded and maybe Aziraphale was going to doze off.

 

_Baaaaaaa…_ echoed through the cave and out the entrance, dissolving into the rain.

 

“What the devil was that?” Aziraphale asked, immediately alert and erect.

 

“Nothing,” he said, trying to be the perfect picture of innocence. “Must be cave ghosts in here or something.

 

_Baaaaa…_

 

“Has the rain stopped yet?” the child asked, rubbing an eye sleepily and moving closer to the fire as if drawn to the light. The child stopped and stared at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale stared back. “Are you going to be my new daddy?”

 

“Absolutely not! Crawley, you can’t kidnap children.”

 

“It’s not kidnapping when they’re orphans. Or soon to be orphans.” 

 

“Really, Crawley, what were you thinking?”

 

“That it’s not right to kill kids,” he said as the family of goats wandered out from the back of the cave. He didn’t like the look Aziraphale was giving him. “Or unicorns,” he added as the unicorn clopped to the front of the cave, bringing it’s own ethereal glow with it.

 

“That’s not your decision to make,” Aziraphale told him gently although he couldn’t help but notice that Aziraphale was refusing to look at the child. “Do you have any idea what the Almighty would do to you if They found out about this?”

 

“Can’t be much worse than what’s already been done.” The Almighty had already dished out their worst punishment for a far lesser crime.

 

“Are you absolutely certain about that?” Aziraphale asked him and for a moment his eyes were so soft and open that for a brief moment he actually believed that the angel was concerned about him. “Are you willing to risk everything for this? If I could find you here, another angel might be able to as well, and they might not be as understanding.”

 

“Of course,” he said, remembering he stocky angel from the garden who would have killed the child personally if that was considered part of the Divine Plan. “Alright. You have to go back to your real parents now,” he said as he approached the child.

 

“But you said you were going to be my mother now,” the child protested. “You said they were all going to drown.”

 

“Yes, well, maybe I was wrong,” he said. He picked up the child and placed it on the back of the unicorn. Besides, there was always free will and all that, and maybe the child’s family would find a way to get out of harm’s way. “The unicorn will keep you safe.” He gave the unicorn a swift tap, and it trotted out into the rain with it’s precious cargo clinging to its mane. He watched them go until he could no longer see them through the wall of water, then went to sit back down across the fire from Aziraphale.

 

“I know that must have been very difficult for you, Crawley.”

 

He grunted, but only in acknowledgment that Aziraphale had spoken to him. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation at the moment.

 

“What are you going to do about the goats?”

 

“They were here when I got here.” Aziraphale didn’t need to know about the pile of carrots he had stashed away in the back of the cave.


	3. Vatican City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Pope is elected, approved of by neither Heaven nor Hell, and Crowley has the solution to their problem.

It was unbearably hot, even for the middle of August. Even worse in the middle of the city, with all the other people of Rome crowded in the plaza, waiting for the announcement. Waiting for direction for their spiritual lives. Crowley should have been out in the country by now, avoiding all these people and the retribution that would likely be coming from Hell. At least he could get a breeze out in the country, and the air wouldn’t be so stifling. He appreciated the sun and the heat but this was starting to feel far too much like something else. Something that he would much sooner forget. He shouldn’t be here; he should be making himself scarce. He didn’t owe these people anything, and he certainly didn’t want to be around when Hell decided what his punishment was going to be.

 

He saw a familiar gleam of silver curls in the shadow of one of the far buildings. He stalked his way towards the angel, edging his way between people who had been standing out there long past the time of freshness.

 

“Hello, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, sidling up beside him with a long practiced ease.

 

“Crowley,?” Aziraphale barely greeted him; he hardly even bothered to look at him. “Come to gloat, have you?”

 

“Gloat? Why would I gloat?” He had had a very trying time attempting to steer the conclave in the Hellish direction and had ultimately failed.

 

“I assume that man is one of your candidates.”

 

“No! Hell wanted nothing to do with him. I thought he was your candidate.”

 

“Obviously not,” Aziraphale told him with a slight pout.

 

Crowley looked at the humans around them, most of which were practically wilting under the summer heat. Quite a few of them were fanning themselves, though it wasn’t going to do them much good in the direct line of the sun. All of them had the same look of bated anticipation, having no knowledge of what had happened inside those walls. They were all waiting to learn the fate of what they considered to be the whole world Whether they could look forward to peace or if they should be bracing themselves for war.

 

“So he’s humanity’s candidate?” It didn’t seem likely, but if Heaven had not been backing him, and Hell had outright rejected him, there didn’t seem to be another option. Might be a good thing for humanity to be in charge of their own affairs for a time. Let them sort their own stuff out, and he and Aziraphale could take a well-deserved vacation.

 

“Apparently, we just canceled each other out. Again.”

 

The Arrangement was supposed to stop this sort of thing from occurring. He had been working incredibly hard and Aziraphale had probably been doing the same, all for some third party candidate to swoop in and take it all. He should leave. He didn’t need to be more embarrassed than he already was. The latecomers were starting to trickle into the plaza, the ones who figured correctly this would be a long process. If he had stayed in his original spot, he might have been able to make his escape. But no, he had to go and find Aziraphale for a little chat. He sighed, thinking about the nice villa out in the country side. It was supposed to have been his reward for a job well done. Then it was supposed to be his retreat from the oppressive heat of the summer. Now he couldn’t even get there. Might as well stay and see this thing through to the end.

 

“Who’s the young lady you’ve been showing around town?” Was that just a hint of jealousy he heard in the angel’s voice? He was allowed to spend time with other beings, even though he had no idea what Aziraphale was talking about.

 

“What young lady?” He had spent so much time trying to influence this conclave that he barely had time for socialization. He had wanted to talk to Aziraphale a week ago, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to get away.

 

 

“The young lady with the dark hair who’s been following you around like a lovesick fly for the past two weeks.”

 

“That wasn’t a lovesick young lady. That was Lord Beezlebub, Prince of Darkness, checking in on my job performance.” It had been some new particular form of torture designed especially for him, he was just sure of it. Beelzebub had been watching his every move for two weeks. He hadn’t had a single moment to himself, not even to take a brief nap.

 

“Why?” Aziraphale asked, looking very suddenly at him. “You don’t suppose they know about...”

 

“No.” They probably wouldn’t be standing around having this conversation if Hell had even the slightest idea of what had been going on up here. “Apparently I did such a good job with the Spanish Inquisition that the Higher Ups wanted to personally study my process.”

 

“What do you have to do with the Spanish Inquisition?”

 

“I may have sent a memo saying I started it,” he said sheepishly, looking around at the dwellers of Rome. It was an excruciatingly hot summer. He couldn’t help but wonder how many of them wouldn’t make it through the summer and how this new Pope would influence their final destination. He really should be out in his villa, not here, consorting with an angel while their collective failure was flaunted in front of them.

 

“I suppose you deserve Lord Beezlebub’s scrutiny then,” Aziraphale told him with a condescending glance.

 

“What about that individual who was following you around?” he asked trying to steer the conversation away from the inhabitants of Hell.

 

“Oh, Michael,” Aziraphale admitted glumly. Crowley had some vague recollections of Michael, none of them pleasant. “Apparently there were some concerns about my job performance. Heaven thought I needed some direct supervision on this project.”

 

“So when did Micheal leave?”

 

“Two days ago. Apparently it was already obvious that I was a failure.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you’re a failure,” Crowley consoled him. “At least no more than I am. Lord Beezlebub left last night after calling me a series of nasty names.” The sun was climbing higher in the sky and a young lady a few rows over fainted from the heat.

 

“So what happens now?”

 

He supposed it was as good a time as any to tell Aziraphale about the villa. He had the kernel of an idea growing in his head, a way to make the next few years bearable. “This man won’t live forever,” he said, feeling like that should have been obvious. Time was always moving forward. “I have a private villa, out in the country. We could go there for a few years, wait for this whole thing to blow over.”

 

Aziraphale appeared thoughtful for a moment. Mulling the idea over. He had to be reeling about the reactions from his superiors as well. “And what would we be doing at this villa in the country?”

 

“I dunno,” he said as the new Pope stepped out onto the balcony. “I was thinking we could take a nap.”

 

“No,” Aziraphale said a little too resolutely as the first slips of paper floated down through the air.

 

“Why not? We could sleep in separate beds.”

 

“I’m not going to spend the next couple of years taking a nap.” Why did he have to sound so repulsed? Was sleeping in the same house as him really that horrible. Aziraphale reached up to catch one of the tiny pieces of paper. He read it with a slight scowl before passing it off to Crowley.

 

“Alexander the Sixth,” he read aloud before dropping the piece of paper to the ground. “How bad can he be?” Some of the humans, having seen the announcement were starting to wander out of the plaza. “Are you sure you don’t want to nap off the next couple of years with me?”

 

“Absolutely not. We’re already going to be in enough trouble as it is for this fiasco. Can you imagine what would happen if they caught us _sleeping_ in the same house instead of thwarting each other?”

 

H e preferred not to.


End file.
